


New Oerba's Finest

by multishep



Category: Final Fantasy XIII, League of Legends
Genre: Community: fangrai-forever, F/F, FangRai, Piltover's Finest, flight
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-09 10:28:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1144885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multishep/pseuds/multishep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for prompt #253 in which all attempts at a vacation getaway in Piltover is interrupted by Jinx's mayhem. What happens when they join in on the city-wide manhunt for Jinx along with Piltover's Finest?</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Oerba's Finest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Avatar_of_Ragnarok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avatar_of_Ragnarok/gifts).



> Happy birthday Pup!

Fang didn’t look up from the glazed bar top when her order was placed in front of her. She knew what her friend was thinking. After all, it was her third night there alone that week and it was only Wednesday. Tilting her head back to swallow her shot, she unwillingly caught Lebreau’s pitying look.

“Light’s working late again tonight?” Lebreau asked, her sympathy as strong as the liquor she served.

Fang winced, but only partly because of the aftertaste. “Like every other night,” she replied, curt.

When she married Lightning during Gran Pulse’s reconstruction, she expected late nights and early mornings. However, she didn’t anticipate the affair to continue even after her wife single-handedly inaugurated a Guardian Corps division in New Oerba with herself appointed as its head. Lightning worked hard to establish the peace, but she worked even harder to maintain it. If Fang wanted to see more of the admiral, she’d have to get in line with all the thieves, ex-Sanctum terrorists, and even Lightning’s fans.

Lebreau’s form loomed over her, non-threateningly, and the empty glass was pried from her fingers to be replaced by a lowly beer. “Have you ever considered a new line of work?”

Fang snickered at the offer. “I’m sure it’d be fun to work with you and all but I’m convinced you’re the only who can put up with all this,” she gestured to the crowd of rowdy drunk patrons behind her, a tone deaf fraction of whom had broken into song much to everyone else’s dismay, “on a daily basis.”

“I meant with Light,” Lebreau rolled her eyes, “but I wouldn’t mind the extra help around here if you ever run out of wild animals to skewer.”

Admittedly, the thought of joining the task force had crossed Fang’s mind from time to time – most often when she had their bed to herself – but the abominable thought would quickly be discarded when the alarm shrieked them both awake at five in the morning every weekday.

Fang shrugged and played with the condensation on her drink, idly running her fingers through the dew. “I can’t say I haven’t but the responsibilities aren’t exactly alluring. It just doesn’t’ seem like a fun job,” she said, and she spoke the truth. The appeal of filing paperwork behind a desk and monotonous patrols could never amount to that of a hunt; she was a huntress after all. Besides, there were no laws against impaling Adamantherons running wild in the city, but if she were to so much as nick a petty Sanctum extremist-turned-thief, she would have a lifetime of paperwork to answer for it.

Lebreau nodded. “Right, because dragging Behemoth carcasses back to the village everyday is so much fun,” she teased.

The two shared a light laugh before Fang returned to fingering arbitrary patterns on the frosted beer bottle. Sensing the only company Fang wanted other than Lightning’s were her drinks, Lebreau diverted her services to her other patrons for the night. Though the bartender’s eyes were kept almost exclusively on the huntress as the hours dragged on, she made sure not to return to the lonely corner of the bar too often. At the rate Fang was guzzling her drinks, Lebreau would need to restock her inventory much earlier than scheduled.

The soft ticking of the watch that adorned her wrist – a gift from Lightning – teased Fang’s ears as she silently waited away the late hours of the night. How many seconds were there left of her life, she wondered, and how much of it would she get to spend with Lightning? The questions hijacked her thoughts and she lifted the near-empty bottle to her lips, but before she could taste the beer on her tongue, a familiar thudding of heavy boots against the wooden floor caused her to whip her head around in elation. After countless late nights of waiting at the bar alone, Lightning’s distinctive footsteps became music to her ears.

Lightning wore an asymmetrical dark gray coat resembling her old uniform, minus the bright red cape and glowing pauldron, above a black form fitting long sleeved shirt and tights. Her posture was stiff and authoritative, but her expression was soft and affable.

In the soft light of the viridian stripes on Lightning’s uniform, Fang’s smile was the widest Lebreau had seen it in a long while.

 “Good evenin’, admiral!” Lebreau welcomed.

Lightning nodded in greeting before turning to Fang who had all but fallen out of her seat to wrap her arms around Lightning’s belted waist. “Sorry I’m late.”

Fang shook her head, forgiving, and they shared a quick kiss. Lightning could taste the amalgam of flavours on the huntress’ lips, and she briefly wondered how much Fang had to drink. Even in the poorly lighted establishment she could see the telling glow on the huntress’ cheeks.

Lebreau shrugged when Lightning raised an eyebrow discreetly in question, Fang still nuzzling away at her neck and wavy pink locks. By the time she was able to wriggle herself free of Fang’s endearing grasp and swat the sly fingers away from the clasps of her coat, the whitened brand above her left breast was visible for the other two women to see.

The admiral excused herself to the restroom, three parts amused and two parts puzzled by her wife’s behaviour.

Lebreau waited a few moments before she let out a hearty laugh at her lovesick friend.

“Shut. Up.” Fang growled.

Lebreau raised her hands defensively and took a step backwards. “Hey, I’m not judging. Given the chance, I’d have done a lot more than just undo her—” She ducked to avoid the flying shot glass Fang hurled in her direction. “Damn it, Fang!” The huntress was wearing her trademark smug look when Lebreau rose from behind the counter.

The annoyed bartender turned to find a dustpan for the mess of broken glass, too familiar with her friend’s aggressive antics, but noticed Fang had taken to staring in the direction of the restrooms looking like a lost puppy. She crept closer and asked in a hushed voice the question that had been on her mind since Fang first walked through her front doors a few nights prior.

“When was the last time you and Light slept together?” Though she didn’t use the term ‘sleep’ too loosely, Lebreau had a feeling her friend had naught but her own company most nights.

Fang looked flustered for a moment before her shoulders slumped and she seemed to deflate in her seat. “It’s been long enough,” she groaned when it became obvious Lebreau wasn’t going to take silence for an answer.

The other woman nodded, understanding, but kept her comments to herself knowing Fang didn’t take too well to pity. The pair enjoyed each other’s company for a couple of more minutes; Lebreau silently filing through ideas to relight the fire to her friends’ love life, and Fang still eagerly side-eyeing the door Lightning had disappeared behind.

“Why don’t you and Light go on a vacation?” Lebreau suggested. “Get away from New Oerba and the GC and actually spend some quality time together.”

“Hah,” Fang laughed sarcastically. “We could be on the other side of Runeterra and she still wouldn’t be able to get her mind off of work. I know my wife, ‘Breau, and like Serah once told me, Lightbug wouldn’t know ‘fun’ even if it fell from the sky and hit her on the head.”

Lebreau chuckled but there was a sad truth to Fang`s words. “You’re right,” she sighed. “Heck, she’d probably join the local police force while you’re there.”

At the height of their jokes and laughter, neither Lebreau nor Fang noticed the admiral had rejoined them, and Lightning was not amused. Though admittedly her definition of ‘fun’ was questionable, she most definitely knew how to have a good time.

“Ahem.” She made her presence known behind Fang and wrestled with the smirk on her face as she watched the colour drain from Lebreau’s face and root itself in Fang’s.

“Looks like all those hunting lessons paid off, yeah?” Fang laughed nervously but then startled along with Lebreau at the clanging and whirring of metal as Lightning’s hybridized weapon came to life.

The bartender grabbed the nearest excuse for a weapon which, unfortunately, was a damp mop and brandished it skillfully like Fang would her lance. “Put that away!” she exclaimed, wondering if she would end her day in detainment for assaulting an officer with a mop, or as a bloody, yet very fashionable, heap.

“What?” Lightning angled the gunblade under the dim light such that it reflected directly between Lebreau’s narrowed eyes. “I upgraded it this morning. Beautiful, isn’t it?” she grinned, though there was nothing sinister about her smile.

“Fang!” Lebreau hissed, “back me up!”

Fang’s eyes darted back and forth between her wife and her best friend, and for a moment Lebreau was adamantly convinced the huntress would feed her to the wolves, but then Fang took Lightning around the waist and led her towards the door.

“Thanks for the drinks ‘Breau!” she called over her shoulder while she ushered the bemused admiral across the floor.

“Fang, wait.” Lightning came to a halt and holstered the polished gunblade but kept her hand on its hilt out of habit. “A vacation sounds like a good idea.”

“It does?” Fang and Lebreau shared a look.

Lightning nodded. “Our anniversary is coming up and I’ve been working extra shifts so I can take a couple of weeks off but—”

Strong hands took her unexpectedly by the shoulders and warm lips pressed firmly against hers. Wordlessly, she felt love and appreciation flow through her like an excited energy as Fang kissed her.

“—I haven’t a clue as to where we could go…” she finished lamely in a flustered daze.

Lebreau cleared her throat, unsure if Lightning could even stand on her own two feet. “I hear Piltover’s quite beautiful,” she suggested.

Lightning blinked once, twice, before looking to Fang who shared a similar, puzzled expression. She forced herself to focus on Lebreau’s words as the bartender spoke but the tanned arm slung around her shoulder was a nagging reminder that she had other _matters_ that needed catching up on.

“What’s over?” Fang asked.

“ _Piltover_ ,” the bartender repeated, “also known as the ‘City of Progress’ because of its extraordinarily low crime rate. If you’re looking for a sweet vacation spot on Valoran, my bet’s on that city-state.”

Lightning nodded. As a recruit she’d heard of the famous “City of Progress”; the prominent city that would have fallen long ago to crime and chaos had it not been for its young sheriff.

Citizens of the metropolis lived in the shadows of advanced techmaturgy; a combination of technology and magic, much like her fellow Cocoonians did before The Fall.

Admittedly, life on Gran Pulse without the Fal’Cie to support them every step of the way had been difficult even with Fang and Vanille’s expertise. Though she lived similarly to an ignorant pet on Cocoon, hidden from the grander scheme of things, not once did she ever doubt her home was _beautiful_.

But Cocoon was a different kind of beautiful. Where Gran Pulse had lush green vegetation to tease the eyes, the low-hanging moon that was her former home had architectural ingenuity that would impress even its Pulsian enemies.

In the five years she’d spent on Gran Pulse, Fang had taught her plenty about Pulsian culture. It was certainly different, but fascinating all the same, and she wished to do the same for Fang. However, aside from the abilities Lightning and the rest of the former l’Cie retained, Gran Pulse was entirely purged of all magic. Cocoon’s reigning era was as frozen as the culture Lightning was yet to share with Fang.

All out of options, Lightning approved Lebreau’s suggestion and Fang quickly agreed, seemingly eager to get the admiral out the door. It was settled then; in just a few days time they would bask underneath the harmonious sky that blanketed the whole of Piltover with only each other for company.

Lightning let herself be ushered out the bar and the hand that was formerly resting on her shoulder had somehow tangled with her own. They strolled at a purposefully slow pace in comfortable silence and Lightning was reminded of yet another simple patrol.

But then Fang leaned in to place a quick peck on her cheek and suddenly her heart fluttered faster than a hummingbird’s wings. She loved her job, paperwork and all, but in that moment she realized it was not yet perfect because it was missing one thing.

It was missing Fang.

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to freestylesmile!


End file.
